The Spade's Heart
by Kittykat2471
Summary: NOT BY ME! In a war, the risk of death is always by your side and it will take who it pleases... However, the king says at his and his husband's love is more powerful than death. Can it be true or will death always be the winnner in the end?


**Me; I didn't write this, my sister did really but since she was too shy to put it up on the internet I decided to give her a little push. Please be nice since she is quite self conscious about her amazing ability to write!**

**Roxy: You mean to hacked into her files and took all the stories she wrote before she deleted them out of habit...**

**Me: SHHH! She might hear you!**

* * *

**The Spade's Heart**

The rush of battle in his veins; the adrenaline pulsing from his heart to fingertips as his sword swung, cutting down those who came in his way. He never paused, never stopped to wipe his sweaty and blood-stained locks out of his face - instead plunged again in the fray. His opponents cowered in front of him but still made a fighting attempt. They tried with broadswords, javelins, daggers and axes but nothing would cut the fighting force down. The blue armour on the man was a beacon of bravery on the battlefield, and no one dared truly challenge him.

The man was the King of Spades – Alfred. The suits were at war, and the barely restrained anger had snapped and was now a full-on battle. The Spades and their king Alfred, queen Arthur and jack Yao were leading their sapphire-clad army into a full-blown battle with the Hearts, Diamonds and Clubs.

The Spades were known for valiance and for bravery, for sacrifice in the name of common good. This was not the first battle Alfred had risked his life in, but it was certainly the worst. He'd even tried to get his queen to stay back where it was peaceful. When the battle had yet to start, the morning sun had cast lights of melancholy blue off the azure-coloured weapons and armour that the Spades wore. Alfred sat on his white horse, a medieval Adonis on a backdrop of sky blue and navy flags. His sword clung to his hip by a loose gold belt and the armour on his body pulled down, but he resisted the urge to become tired.

To his right was his queen – most ironically, a male carrying the title. Arthur was his name; green eyes that looked almost of Clubs heritage, but wheat-blonde hair the glowed in the light. He had an ornate bow held lightly in his hand, and a decorated quiver hanging from his back. He had forsaken his gold crown for a dazzling silver helm, and surveyed the battlefield with the eye of a skilled hunter.

To Alfred's left was the responsible one, the ancient one, the man who knew it all and was reserved from the danger; Yao. The jack knew what he must do and performed it well, seeing as he was ancient in his ways and young in his looks. He held a weapon shaped remarkably like an exotic pan – a concave dish with handles made of blue-painted metal. He strapped it to the back of his armor and tied his long, midnight black hair back with a ribbon, keeping it out of his face to analyze the battlefield.

* * *

It wasn't long before the battle started, and the once tranquil field was filled with the clash of metal, the screams of the dying, the trumpets of all four sides and the smell of war. The Spades royalty was separated, occasionally catching glimpses of the other striking down dozens in front of them. Alfred was at it with the king of Hearts, swinging his sword to meet the other king's ruby one. The other king, Ludwig, leapt forward with a sort of elegant stab, but Alfred dodged to the side and their entire fight rotated. Ludwig made another move but Alfred again parried, and in the moment of confusion for the Heart he took it and hit him over his head with his blue shield. The Heart king crumpled, not dead, but incapacitated. Alfred allowed himself a smile before charging back into the fray with his sword drawn and a mighty battle roar.

* * *

Across the battlefield, Arthur wasn't even close to panic. Around him soldiers were quaking from the advancements of the Diamond army; they were so scared they almost dropped their swords. The Diamond king was not known for his military prowess, but the Jack was feared for his rare firepower and his unwillingness to fight. If he did fight, he was one to be feared.

Arthur removed his helm for a short second to get a full view of the battle. Half the Spades were fighting the Hearts, and half the Diamonds had joined that fight. The other Spades were here, ready to face off the Diamonds, and the Clubs were dispersed among the battle, apparently killing everyone and everything.

The Spades queen donned his helm again. He slung the bow from off his shoulder and subtly drew and arrow, notching while pointing it to the ground. He didn't want to fire, not yet – that would certainly start the actual fighting. The strain of drawing the bow was yanking on his arms, but he knew he couldn't go. Inside him there was a little fear, that little fear he always felt before starting a battle. He knew he could die. It was always possible. He was nearly immortal royalty, but he could get shot or stabbed or killed like every other soldier in his ranks.

Arthur had led more battles than his king by far, and despite his battle-worn exterior, he still had fight in his veins. He took a deep breath, and stared straight at the face of the Diamonds king. The king turned and locked his blue eyes on Arthur's. They stayed there, locked on the emerald orbs as Arthur drew his bow, quirked his lips in a smile, and let loose the arrow.

* * *

A triumphant roar came from the other side of the field. Alfred turned just in time to see his queen, taller than the rest of the battlefield, draw his bow and shoot the Diamond king. Pride shot through him just at the thought of Arthur battling and winning, but Alfred was forced to turn his back to battle again with the Hearts.

The Diamond fight was going well. The soldiers had panicked and nearly fled at the sight of their king lying dead on the ground, but their Jack and Queen had managed to hold the ranks and led them as a brother-sister duo. Arthur was no longer a solitary archer; his arrows joined the many of their back ranks. He shot to kill and to kill only, and took down every soldier he aimed for.

He turned to his army, shouting commands and gestures. It was a second away from his fighting, a second with his back turned.

A single Diamond took the opportunity.

One arrow.

One man.

History repeated.

Two broken hearts.

* * *

Amongst his battling, it occurred to Alfred he hadn't caught sight of his radiant queen for several hours. He didn't take concern, but quickly did away with the soldiers in front of him in favor to run towards the main Spades ranks, curious as to what happened.

He arrived there breathless, and for the first time the battle took its toll. He wasn't an immortal, terrifying warrior. He was just a tired king with bloodstains all over the place, and pain in his eyes without the promise of Arthur. Walking towards the Jack, he felt a terrible foreboding; Yao turned and saw him and his small mouth twisted in pity and in pain, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Alfred stopped. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Yao walked up to him with empathy in his eyes.

"Where's Arthur?" the king demanded, letting the tense words slip out of his mouth.

Yao winced. He stared at his feet in a small bow and dared a look into Alfred's eyes. "The Queen was…injured. You may not want to see."

Shock hit Alfred harder than any hit from any broadsword. He gripped the jack's shoulder. "How injured? Is he alright? Where is he? Take me there, now!"

Yao again nodded, this time slowly and sadly. Before leading Alfred to his injured queen, he spoke words that both fortified and terrified the king, "You are the king of the Spades, the leader. This battle is far from over, and by all the gods we cannot lose. Whatever happens, don't lose hope. Don't break down. Stay strong if not for our troops, but for your queen."

* * *

Arthur's vision flashed black and red. All he knew was that one second he was shooting like a mad fool, the next a thump and a searing pain in his chest and now he was on the ground, surrounded by people in blue. He didn't recognize the faces. Should he? Were they villains or allies? The symbol of spades was slipping his mind, he didn't know what the markings on their armor meant.  
And next the pain. It hurt. All over it hurt. It felt like every beat of his heart hurt, right under his collarbone on the left. His head ached and it felt like his helm had been removed – for what purpose he knew not. All he knew was the pain, and the confusion as every face blended in front of him.

The people were so dull. So bland. They didn't stand out. Did he know them? Did they know him? Who were these strangers? He had been in battle, it seemed like forever ago. Had it been forever? Hours? Minutes? Mere seconds? Time blended like the faces.

And he was aware of the tears. Hot and cold and salty and sweet tears pouring from his emerald eyes down his cheeks; no one stopping them. He was trapped in this land of strangers and everything hurt, his mouth could work but he couldn't think what to say. Arthur was absolutely positive he was dying.

Suddenly someone burst through the sea of gray people. Two somebodies, but one radiant, gold person – the only person Arthur was desperate to see. His king, his husband, his love. King Alfred was here, panic in those sky-blue eyes as he saw Arthur.

If Arthur had the strength, he would have reached out. Alfred stopped dead in his tracks, horror written all over his face. The look of a scared animal, the look of a person who received horrible news. Arthur knew he was dying. He knew it, but could Alfred see it? Apparently he could. The pause from the king's appearance drew itself out in the gray atmosphere, before cracking and coming back in vibrant colour.

A wail tore from Alfred's lips, and he crashed down next to Arthur on his knees.

The first not-garbled words made it to the dying queen's ears. "Oh god, Arthur, oh god please Arthur, my love, my queen, Arthur…" He felt the strong hands of his king on his face and hair, bare fingers stroking his blood-stained hair and face and cradling the porcelain skin like a rare disappearing treasure.

Arthur's small, cracked voice broke the silence. "Alfred…what's happening? I'm dying; I know I'm dying, what happened?"

Alfred opened his mouth but not a single noise could come out. The Spades queen was now aware of another person beside him, the Jack.

Yao spoke. "Arthur…you were…battling. In battle, a Diamond – or at least we believe – shot you…right above the h-heart."

A sob came simultaneously from both Alfred and Arthur. The crowd gathered around them bowed their heads in sadness; what did their royalty do to deserve this? These two men were the closest they had ever seen to perfect love. In public they were loyal and devoted to each other, and in their private chambers they were even closer. There was not a second that Alfred's heart didn't beat for Arthur and the pulse in Arthur's veins wasn't for Alfred. Every kiss shared made them fall deeper in love, and every moment they spent together was treasured.

This occurred to Arthur as his mind processed the information. As if a looking glass was wiped clean, his mind was suddenly clear. The world reverted back to colour, no longer gray. The Spades around him were recognizable, and the static of his hearing was gone. It seemed as if the knowledge of his mortal wound and imminent death made life clear again. The pain wasn't gone, no, now it was redoubled with heartbreak.

Arthur found his voice again. "Alfred…my love…" he said, trying his best to speak, "I am dying. Death is unavoidable now…"

"No, no, no! No, it's not, Arthur. I love you. I love you more than life itself, I'll take your place, I'll do anything!" Alfred cried, "Love has to be stronger than death. I'll do anything, anything it takes – you can't die, Arthur, you can't. Anything!"

Arthur's heart nearly broke at the sight of his king like this. He was the one dying, but Alfred was the one who would suffer. Nothing made the Queen sadder than the thought of Alfred going through life without him, without a queen at his side, without a man to share his love and his joys and his bed, no one to remind him to do something he forgot or to kiss him slow and soft.

"Alfred…don't t-try to get around it, c-come to terms with it. I will die soon. Please, my love…one last thing…"

Horrible coughs racked his body, and even with the stuttering of his failing heart, there was one last wish. "Alfred, please. To…s-satisfy me, one last thing…p-please, a k-kiss?"

Alfred stared at Arthur, dumbstruck. The light in his green eyes was failing, dimming, and his coughs were getting weaker and weaker. He couldn't hold on. Not for another minute, maybe only for a few seconds.

He couldn't move.

"Alfred, my pet, please…"

He couldn't think.

"…one last thing…"

Nothing was functioning.

"…b-before I…go…"

Nothing could save him.

"Before I d-die…"

He couldn't believe it.

"I'll g-go happy…"

He wouldn't believe it.

"…a…k-kiss…please…"

He wouldn't give in.

* * *

The first thing Arthur saw when he awoke was a wash of navy blue. He blinked sluggishly, confused – wasn't he…dying? It took all his energy, but he blinked again. It all got a bit clearer, and he looked around. The next thing he saw was a mop of blonde hair and the sleeping, but handsome, face of his king, which only served to confuse him even more.

With a weak hand, he reached out and touched Alfred's shoulder. It was the barest of brushes, but Alfred jolted awake, nearly knocking the chair over and catching himself on the bedside table. He shook his head, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes and looked around for what woke him up. Nothing came immediately to attention when suddenly he saw it – his queen's green eyes, open.

"ARTHUR!" he shouted the name so loud it hurt Arthur's ears, but a quiet smile touched his face nonetheless.

"Hello, Alfred…" he said clumsily, forcing his slurred mouth to form the words.

"You're alive."

"Quite obviously."

"Amazing, shot to the heart and still able to be sarcastic."

"Shot to the heart…wait, how did I survive that?" It seemed that it wasn't just his speech that was slow, but also his mind. "What exactly happened?"

Alfred faltered a bit, but eventually spit it out. "Basically, you shot and killed Francis, which started the battle. When you were reloading, a Diamond took the opportunity and shot you…through the heart…everyone was convinced you would die that day."

"Clearly I didn't."

"Clearly."

A moment of silence passed.

Arthur frowned before speaking. "Right before I…blacked out, I asked you to kiss me. Once. Just to make me happy before I died. Why didn't you?" His voice held a note of betrayal, anger.

Another awkward pause, in which Alfred looked ashamed. "I didn't want…well, I didn't think, uh, it's confusing."

"Explain."

"Well, you said you'd die happy. You said if I kissed you one more time, you'd go pleased and willingly. And I didn't want that…everyone said you were dying, and I knew that if I gave you what you wanted you'd be content. I had to give you something to hang on to, to wait for…"

Arthur's eyes widened. Suddenly it all made sense. Alfred wasn't denying him, he wasn't shoving him away. He was saving him…Arthur would have died, he would have given it. But the shock and the want to kiss Alfred one more time had made him hold on; Alfred was so right.

The knowledge gave him strength, enough to reach his hands out and touch Alfred's face. Alfred leaned into the touch, smiling a genuine smile. Arthur's hands were tingling from the human contact and though he was tired and sick, his cheeks were a flaming red. Alfred wasn't as shy but he was equally tired; he had been waiting for two whole weeks for Arthur to wake up.

"Alfred, my love, now that I'm certainly not dying," Arthur began, dropping his tingling hands and twisting them in the most adorable and shy manner, "How about the hero kisses his queen?"

A wide grin appeared on Alfred's face, showing his perfect teeth. This is what he been waiting for, for his queen to wake up and to be able to speak and be in love again.

He didn't even bother to speak - no, he just did it. He just leaned forward carefully, not jostling the bed Arthur was lying on, to cover Arthur's lips with his own. Arthur relaxed in Alfred's arms, smelling his distinctive scent and enjoying the warmth. They kissed over and over again until Arthur was too tired, and fell asleep together united as King and Queen of Spades again.

* * *

**Me: Hope you enjoyed it and I ask you to be nice readers and reviewers to be kind about this... everyone who has a little shy sister or brother will understand why...**

**Roxy: That was really sweet, what do you want?**

**Me: My sisters bravery to grow a bit! Is that so bad!**


End file.
